‘But don’t sniff at it until you’ve tried it. This Blanc de Blancs is rich, complex. It has aromas of apple and hints of strawberries, rhubarb and nectarines on the palate, along with brioche and nuts, with a fruitiness on its elegant finish.’Thank you to Top Ten English sparkling-wines review I mostly copied that from.
‘Enjoy your glass, please, with our delectable Scottish oysters – because some things shouldn’t come from south of the border …’ I pause as the room erupts into throaty chortles once more. ‘And find your places for our English-themed dinner: five delicious courses prepared by James and Anis in our kitchen, and a selection of wines chosen by me and my delightful co-sommelier, Roxy.’ I smile at her, and she grins back. ‘And I’m confident in the knowledge that if they do not provide you with libatory pleasure, you will certainly take great pleasure in hating them.’
Laughter. And then applause.
I grin broadly, looking from face to face around the room. Irene, Roxy and Bill are still standing near the back, and I can see pride across their faces. I glance across at Matthew, who is clapping and nodding in approval. I feel a warmth spreading through me as I soak up the sound of their adulation and feel a bittersweet sense of satisfaction. I allow myself a little look at James, who is clapping, though looking pensively at the floor. I need to talk to him again.
The music kicks in and the guests make their way to their tables, and suddenly I can feel the tremors in my body as I step down from the stage. I grab another glass of fizz from an abandoned silver tray and make a beeline for James, who looks like he’s about to head back into the kitchen. But then, from out of nowhere, Russell blocks my path.
‘Hello, Heather,’ he says. ‘I think there was someone you forgot to mention in your little speech. It’s my restaurant, after all.’ He says it jokingly, but I can tell he’s pissed.
‘Oh, of course – sorry, I totally blanked up there.’No, I didn’t.
‘I’d like to speak myself, so could we talk about an introduction before the dessert wines?’
‘Ah, but the whole night is planned,’ I say, trying to catch James’s eye.
‘Look, this is my restaurant and you’ll do what I say,’ says Russell sharply.
‘Will I?’ I snap back. I want to get to James before he goes back inside. ‘I need to go.’
As I manoeuvre past Russell, I feel a tug on my apron and it unwinds and falls down to the floor. I nearly trip as the strings tangle around my legs in the process.
‘Hey, what the fuck?’ I say as I turn to Russell, grabbing my apron off the floor and holding it to my belly. ‘What, are you like eight years old?’
‘I’m still your boss. Youwillrespect me.’
Forget it, Birdy, I say under my breath as I turn and walk straight into James, who has witnessed the event and is glaring at Russell. I quickly grab James by the hand and pull him away from the marquee to the safety of the kitchen.
‘Arsehole.’
‘Yes. He is,’ I reply, grateful that there is still some caring for me inside James. ‘What’s going on with Russell? Why is he still here? I thought we were all dreadful and he wanted to bestow his talent elsewhere.’
‘Mr MacDonald is here,’ James whispers. ‘So Russell wanted to come and oversee the event. Though I’ve told Mr MacDonald that Russell had nothing to do with tonight. And next week he won’t have anything to do with Loch Dorn. He’s been let go.’
I’m shocked. James has taken control and stood up for himself.
‘So are you taking over then? Head chef?’ I ask.
‘Not quite,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘I do have some plans, though …’
But before he has a chance to continue, a line of waiters with large silver trays containing the starter stream past us towards the marquee.
‘Let’s go! Starters out, and come back straight away for your next tray!’ barks Anis, who has never looked so in charge as she does now. The waiters take off in formation, like a military parade.
‘You’d better go and introduce the first white,’ James says, as I nod my head and bite my lip. ‘You were great,’ he adds, his eyes dropping to the floor again. ‘I’m proud of you, if that’s not too weird a thing to say.’
I shake my head, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes.
‘James, I’m going to miss you so fucking much,’ I blurt at a whisper. And then I turn away and rush back to my podium, my heart thumping. I can’t bear to see his reaction.
I take a deep breath, then momentarily panic as I cannot fill my lungs. I try again and remind myself it is only anxiety.
Breathe in, breathe out.
After a moment I feel able to speak. The white wine, I explain to my now-captive and slightly lubricated audience, is from Norfolk. ‘It’s a stunning blended white with a punch of tropical aromas, which complements your lightly smoky fish to perfection,’ I say. ‘This little beauty has more cups than Norwich City Football Club. Though, frankly, that’s not much of an achievement.’
As the evening wears on, my confidence grows and I find I am enjoying myself. As the cheese board and last wine are delivered to each table, and the band sets up for the post-dinner dancing, I take to the stage for the final time.
